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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26339461">What do we want? (A girl- Boy- worth fighting...)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/1PB2PB3PB4/pseuds/1PB2PB3PB4'>1PB2PB3PB4</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Trans Cole Phelps [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>L.A. Noire</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, PTSD kinda, The Cave, War, World War II</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 03:14:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,835</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26339461</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/1PB2PB3PB4/pseuds/1PB2PB3PB4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Cole's adult life, finally being able to fully live and breathe from leaving Larkspur, through the Marines and up to joining the LAPD.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cole Phelps/Marie Phelps, Hank Merrill &amp; Cole Phelps, Hank Merrill/Cole Phelps-Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Trans Cole Phelps [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1908370</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>What do we want? (A girl- Boy- worth fighting...)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>more self indulgence, watch the tags for warnings. Some of it is from the game flashbacks some is extra.</p><p>This was going to go all the way up to traffic at least but then I wanted to have more detail on traffic and I don't really care about patrol much and thematically it felt better to end it where it did, so yeah this is just Cole's time in the Marines really, not LAPD.<br/>Cole's or other character's views are not necessarily representative of my views, Cole's got  a lot of thoughts going on.</p><p>Please let me know if you saw any mistakes or what you thought in general.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It’s January 1940, the new year of a new decade, and Cole and Marie Phelps have just arrived in Stanford It’s a new year, a new decade, a new city, a new start- and Cole feels like a new man. He’s going to go to College- for linguistics. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s planning on living in a house off campus- partially because of Marie, but also because he likes his privacy. Or so he says.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But new cities come with new problems- like finding houses and jobs, and with Marie’s stomach swelling slightly more every day the concerns have never felt quite so pressing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>While Cole’s trying to deal with </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> matter they stay briefly in a hotel and Cole, in an attempt to find a job that would both allow him to focus on studies, but also earn some money to pay bills without forcing Marie to work while pregnant- sets up working at a shipping yard.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s good work, honest work, and now Cole’s no longer wrapping his ribs lifting things has never been easier.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He lets Marie know that if she wants to continue working as a secretary he will fully support her, but that if she’d rather just raise their children he’d support that too. Ultimately she chooses to drop her career, maybe she’s trying to seek out respectability like Cole does, and married women don’t work unless they have too.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the end it’s really just another thing that Marie Phelps gives up for Cole and for her own security and he wonders later if he should have pushed harder for her to stay in work</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s still reasonably close to home but it’s far enough away that nobody </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> knows him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He likes it here, and as far as he can tell Marie likes it too.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The Phelps household has no family, and if anyone starts asking too many probing questions vague references to family just being </span>
  <em>
    <span>so far away</span>
  </em>
  <span> is thrown aside.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Cole loves Marie, and Marie loves Cole- unfortunately for them both Marie loved the girl Cole had never really been more.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s a thing both of them can ignore however, especially with the bigger delight of the discovery that they’re not expecting </span>
  <em>
    <span>one</span>
  </em>
  <span> but </span>
  <em>
    <span>two</span>
  </em>
  <span> baby girls.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Holly and June Phelps are born in August 1940, the nurses coo and inform the parents that they look just like their father! They don’t notice that both parents' faces twitch a little at that fact, but even if they did they wouldn’t know what to make of it.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Both Cole and Marie are simply </span>
  <em>
    <span>delighted</span>
  </em>
  <span> to have children, and both of them instantly fall in love as soon as they cast their eyes on their daughters. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s almost enough to bring them back together after they started to drift, like a barrier had started to grow between them when they moved to L.A. but Holly and June unite them, and perhaps they would have come back together.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The problem is- although Cole doesn’t know it and Marie is in denial- Cole isn’t the man Marie thought she had fallen in love with. Who she’d fallen in love with back in Larkspur was naught but a facade of the true person, and while she still cares about him and loves him- when Marie looks at him now she sees the changes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Perhaps it could have worked, perhaps in another time Cole and Marie would have been incredibly happy together in their marriage, even if it was a little unconventional.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After all, nothing seems to unite like children- or at least for Marie and Cole. Admittedly time spent together is still rare- Cole is absent most of the day, and Marie is often exhausted spending the whole day dealing with not one but two infants.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They still drift to some degree, but it was different to before. Besides, even if perhaps Marie didn’t love Cole like she had, if she saw his body and thought it alien, she still loved him perhaps.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Besides, their secrets were safe with each other.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately for them they lived in their time and in December 1941 there is a bombing at Pearl Harbour.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The US government calls for all men to go to arms, to fight for their country and what is right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cole is a man, and he will do what is right if it kills him. How could he deny such a call?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Besides, he’s doing ROTC.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Cole Phelps is enrolled into the OCS in the hopes of joining the USMC by the autumn of 1944.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A Jack Phelps enlists to be an army doctor. Officially speaking they are not brothers, because legally speaking Jack Phelps does not </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> a brother.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Being in the corps is a learning experience, because it’s one thing to keep your distance from colleagues you don’t need to know, and another with men who you spend every waking hour with.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cole’s never really been one for friends though, ostracised as a loner for most of his youth, and carrying a fear of ever becoming too close to another person and risking opening himself up.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Kelso’s a real friendly guy, Cole can tell- what with him trying to help him out with the drill Sergeant from hell. Unfortunately for him Cole doesn’t do friendly, Cole doesn’t do nice, and he can’t be friends with any of the guys here- Kelso nor Merril. He’s going to keep himself separated and so be it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If this means that Kelso thinks he’s an utter bastard then so be it. This way Cole might be able to avoid a dishonourable discharge- or </span>
  <em>
    <span>worse</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s harder than he thought to keep them at a distance- Kelso not so much, Merril very much so. See, they’re both friendly but Merril’s just </span>
  <em>
    <span>nice</span>
  </em>
  <span> and acts like a kicked puppy who just wants to come back for more every time Cole blows him off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It makes him want to shake the man a little, shake him until he leaves Cole alone </span>
  <strike>
    <span>because he shouldn’t accept Cole’s shit</span>
  </strike>
  <span> because Cole can’t risk this, but there’s no fucking point. Cole just makes sure to keep his head down and read up about protocol and mentally goes through all the steps to clean your rifle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s good at this, Cole’s never really had friends, it’s just like school.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>There is no privacy in OCS, he’d known this going in, but it’s a whole ‘nother kettle of fish to actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>experience</span>
  </em>
  <span> it yourself. His chest is flat enough it shouldn’t raise any questions, but having two still slightly red scars along your chest just invites questions.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No man really wants to know what’s going under another man’s shorts, but there’s a difference between not wanting to know due to modesty, and the fact that if people know you’re dead.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Showers and changing is full of fear for Cole, and he’s taking zero risks. Sure he might be picking a reputation as a bit of a prude, one for thinking he’s above the rest of them- always showering alone, changing elsewhere. It’s just how it’s got to be though, Cole doesn’t regret signing up to the Marines for one minute.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Back when Cole had first enlisted he’d received a bag of mixed reactions from his family- once they’d heard the news.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Marie had asked him- worriedly- if he’d really had to go, but she’d accepted it when he told her that yes, he did. Because it was right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Also because questions would fly if a seemingly healthy young man was a draft dodger and Cole Phelps was nothing of the sort.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His parents- particularly his mother- had freaked. No parent really wants to hear that their child is going off to war.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Richard Phelps had thought that if Cole had a way out- not being on draft lists- then he should just </span>
  <em>
    <span>take</span>
  </em>
  <span> it. Besides, the making of a man doesn’t come from down the barrel of a gun.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hannah Phelps just thinks of all the ways this could go so badly wrong, of Cole being caught, of Cole being shot and never knowing whether it was friendly fire.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jack Phelps tells his brother good luck. A week later a pair of balled up socks arrive at the Phelps residence in Stanford. Cole laughs.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe he just wasn’t being careful enough- or maybe it’s that while you can predict when it’s unlikely that anyone is going to stumble into the showers, such as in the wee hours of the morning- it’s never an exact science.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Case in point: Hank Merril is standing inside the shower stalls expectantly as Cole reaches to push open the door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His immediate reaction is to slam the door shut and pray Merril goes away, but instead he focuses on ensuring his shorts and balled up socks are in place and casually drapes his towel over his shoulders so that it obscures his chest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He can do this, he can do this. How would Merril know </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyway</span>
  </em>
  <span>? And it’s fucking Merril. Man’s too nice for his own good.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What the hell are you doing here Merril?” Cole asks him, because seriously, what? Also he feels like he has a right to know, what kind of man waits to accost another coming out of the shower?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thought I’d come and see where you keep sneaking off to in the dark. Always been a light sleeper personally.” Merril responds, shrugging lightly, “Thought it might be interesting.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And was it?” he bites out, trying to work out where this is going, trying to work out Merril’s angle- if he even </span>
  <em>
    <span>has </span>
  </em>
  <span>one.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mmm,”  the other man hums, noncommittal, “So why you always showering alone Phelps? Don’t trust yourself around me?” Merril asks him, and normally that kind of question is dangerous, but out of Merril’s mouth it feels different.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Presumably seeing something on his face Merril holds up his hands, “Just saying 3am showers are kinda weird- not quite normal, that’s all.”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe I’m not quite a normal man,” Cole says hesitantly, because it looks like the cards are going to fall, and he doesn’t want to reveal anything- just wants to work out whatever it is that Merril thinks he knows. “I look weird in the shower,” he adds on. Maybe if Merril thinks Cole has a small dick and is embarrassed about it he’ll accept that and leave this the hell alone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Merrill gets a knowing look on his face though, “I’m sure you look just </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine</span>
  </em>
  <span> Phelps,” and then finally, thankfully it seems like he might just leave so Cole can take this towel off his shoulders and go and find a shirt and pray this never happens again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know something about not being quite normal myself,” Merril adds, and then as opposed to leaving like Cole thought he would- he’s striding closer to where Cole’s standing, still clutching his towel over his chest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your secret’s safe with me Cole,” there’s the brush of lips against his cheek, and then he’s gone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Your secret’s safe with me, the words play around his head, as does the kiss. He wonders if Merril actually knows, he suspects Merril’s got the wrong end of the stick, but frankly this is a safer one for the other man to have a hold of.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He imagines being as bold as Merril and internally laughs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cole doesn’t need his friendship anyway, just his silence.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>But maybe for all that Cole tells himself he doesn’t need friends he craves one. Because while Hank Merril doesn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he’s already proven himself to be a damn sight safer than the rest of the guys.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Cole Phelps will find a fast friend in Hank Merril, and he’ll never dare tell Marie about it- not really.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly Cole seems to find himself spending more time talking to Merril- Hank, because it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>easy</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He’s just so fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>nice</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and he listens, and Cole can almost breathe easy around the other man.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They only talk about basic things- like the army, like the war- like what they want- like how fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span> baked beans are.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Cole likes OCS though, maybe a little more than he really should considering all it means is that he’s training to go off to </span>
  <em>
    <span>war</span>
  </em>
  <span>. But he hopes that he can make a difference, make a name for himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Because if he can make a name for himself maybe he can finally </span>
  <em>
    <span>prove</span>
  </em>
  <span> it that he’s really a man. No one’s going to doubt a war hero, no one’s going to look at him and point and say </span>
  <em>
    <span>he’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> not a man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuck what Kelso says, it’s not like Cole asked for his opinion anyway.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But yeah, Cole likes OCS, likes the structure and the routine, likes that there’s a book- so to speak, regulations and rules. He spends his first two weeks obsessively going over them in his mind, and then afterwards he cools it just a little.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He decides to try and brush up on his Japanese, thinks of the books lining the shelves back in Larkspur, thinks of his mother’s love for languages and her attempts to impart this into her sons.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Russian and Japanese had been his mother’s languages of choice, but she’d dabbled in Latin and French as well. Cole hadn’t taken to Russian, and he’d never been especially fond of Latin or French but he’d been fascinated by Japanese. A younger him had found the characters fascinating and beautiful and he’d spent great care slowly writing them out. When Hannah Phelps had noticed she’d  nurtured this and encouraged him to work on his skills.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And then he’d gone on to do it at college- like she’d wanted to but hadn’t been able.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course it’s easier said than done to really practice his language skills, but he does his best. Trying to write out as much of “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Wagahai wa Neko de Aru” </span>
  </em>
  <span>as he can remember, and summarising that which he cannot.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If he is to go to the Pacific Theatre then Cole feels he will do well to understand as much of the language and culture as he can.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>So Kelso snipes at Cole for thinking himself above it all- which he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span>- he just wants some fucking respect, and Hank tries to play nice between the two of them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cole finds himself becoming far too attached to Hank- </span>
  <em>
    <span>Merril</span>
  </em>
  <span>- and he doesn’t want to stop talking to him, but Cole’s not here for friends. Besides, </span>
  <strike>
    <span>Hank </span>
  </strike>
  <span>Merril seems to be trying to get Cole and Kelso to cooperate or be friends as well.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cole doesn’t need friends </span>
  <strike>
    <span>he doesn’t</span>
  </strike>
  <span> and he sure as hell doesn’t want to swap stories with a man like Kelso who seems to view Cole and all his ideals with nothing but disdain.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>It doesn’t help that Cole is just feeling </span>
  <em>
    <span>off</span>
  </em>
  <span>, all the time. He doesn’t quite know how to explain it- and even if he could he wouldn’t because he thinks he knows </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The pills. There’s no getting them out here, and his moods are just going completely whack. He was scared at first, at the idea of stopping them- feared he’d somehow turn back into the woman he’d never been, but his voice is still low and his fat’s still in all the right places.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He just feels off and awful and grumpy- and it’s doing him no favours- but he can deal.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Or at least he can deal until the return of his monthlies and then he freaks.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Cole hasn’t had to deal with his cycles for a few years now- hasn’t had to </span>
  <em>
    <span>hide </span>
  </em>
  <span>them, and he’s never had to hide them while under this much scrutiny before. He can almost ignore the feeling that he’s been punched in the stomach at the sight of blood in his shorts underneath the more overwhelming feelings of complete and utter panic</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They’re responsible for their own laundry- which is good- but still washing bloody pants is bound to lead to unwelcome questions, not to mention </span>
  <strike>
    <span>god forbid</span>
  </strike>
  <span> bloody sheets. Shower time becomes impromptu incriminating laundry time as well.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He can do this- he can do this without being noticed.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Luckily for Cole, he does- just about. Less fortunately it’s a different story once he’s actually shipped out.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually Kelso will drop out of OCS, and really all Cole can think is </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Because like it or not- and Hank certainly doesn’t like it- Kelso’s not really </span>
  <em>
    <span>made</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be an officer, constantly prickling at the rules and it’s clear it all rankles him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cole does wish him all the best of luck as a soldier though, and thinks he could be a good one. He just doesn’t tell Kelso this because it seems like a great way to get a punch to the teeth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hank gives him dirty looks for the next week, which might be as much to do with the lack of liberty as the lack of Kelso but Cole just ignores it. He didn’t make Kelso talk back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s used to being a pariah anyway, he doesn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>need</span>
  </em>
  <span> Hank, or his friendship.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Really.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Boarding the ship that will take him across the ocean is one of the most significant moments in his life so far- at least he thinks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s with Hank- because he’s given up on trying to pretend that he’s not friends with the man- and he feels like a king of the world.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My family ran a shipping company in San Francisco,” he tells Hank, “and yet I’ve never been on a voyage. I feel like Odysseus at the beginning of his journey!” and he can’t quite keep the excitement out of his voice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He squashes down the guilt at the lie- because </span>
  <em>
    <span>technically</span>
  </em>
  <span> his father had </span>
  <em>
    <span>tried</span>
  </em>
  <span> to start up a shipping company in San Francisco- it just so happens it had folded before Cole was even born. It’s safer this way- he tells himself- if Hank can’t really track him down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hank just seems bemused as ever at Cole’s antics- he’d always been kind of quiet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The Odyssey took ten years Cole,” chuckle hiding just beneath the words, before Hank takes a drag on his cigarette.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cole loves talking to Hank because the other man will let him flit from subject to subject, but he’ll occasionally chip in. Kelso would probably just tell him to pull his head out of his ass or to shut the fuck up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“American can rule the world after we win this war,” he tells Hank, trying to get the other man to share in his excitement, to see what he sees in voyaging out across the Pacific to do some right.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It doesn’t work though- it never does, Hank is always so grounded, never seems to want to daydream or explore the glory they could find.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’ve got to stay alive first,” Hank tells him seriously and Cole gets that- he does.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just, for him, staying alive is secondary. Cole’s trying to find something out here, and later when he’s grown he’ll realise that he didn’t need it, and his father had been correct in saying you don’t gain anything down the barrel of a gun. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This Cole’s head is full of noble thoughts however, and a small bitter resentment that Hank can be nice and meek and quiet </span>
  <strike>
    <span>and kiss a man on the cheek</span>
  </strike>
  <span> and no one will ever doubt that he’s very much a man.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>He bunks with Hank on the boat- naturally and by dint of being officers they don’t spend much time with most of the other men.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe Hank would, but Cole doesn’t and for some reason Cole can’t quite place the other man seems to actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>enjoy</span>
  </em>
  <span> his company.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kelso would say Cole had his head up his ass for not “mingling”, Cole feels that mingling is a great way for people to get to know you, and that’s something he’s always been keen to avoid.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Cole sticks to showering at odd twilight hours while on the ship- it had served him well during OCS after all. He also continues to use this time as a chance to engage in laundry.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cole knows to stick wads of tissues down his pants- safer than socks- when the time comes, and he knows to chuck them. Keeps jokes about killer nosebleeds stocked up safe in case anyone catches him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What Cole </span>
  <em>
    <span>hadn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> planned for was being caught by surprise one morning by an early cycle and being greeted by a horrified “</span>
  <em>
    <span>What the fuck Cole?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” from a casually reading Hank when he’d slipped out of bed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That’s how Cole finds himself standing stock still while a bug-eyed Hank stares at the bloody patch on the seat of his pants.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?” Cole asks confused- still blissfully ignorant of what’s happened before moving over to make his bed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He immediately pales when he sees the blood stain on the sheet. It’s not massive, but it’s noticeable, and it’s a problem. He’s too freaked out to do anything, frozen in place. Soon- too soon Hanks’ at his shoulder, practically dripping concern as he puts a hand on Cole’s shoulder which is whipped away as his bunk-mate, and probably soon to be ex- friend sees the bloody patch on Cole’s sheets too.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Cole I think you need to see a doctor,” Hank tells him steadily, and Cole laughs at that because there’s too much to process and otherwise he’ll cry. Besides, he knows that seeing a doctor is </span>
  <em>
    <span>absolutely</span>
  </em>
  <span> the worst thing he could do. He could kiss goodbye to his happily married life for starters.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine</span>
  </em>
  <span> Hank,” he says brusquely, and rapidly pulling up the covers to hide the incriminating stain, he then turns around to cover the seat of his pants for good measure.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you kidding me Cole?” Hank whisper shouts at him, but gesticulating wildly at him. “You’re bleeding in your fucking shorts! You shouldn’t be bleeding down there at </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span>- let alone this fucking much!” Hank steps away from Cole to go stand in front of the door, blocking it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You need to tell me what the hell happened to you okay? I can’t - won’t- </span>
  <em>
    <span>force</span>
  </em>
  <span> you to go to a doctor- but you need to tell me. Did someone do- did someone </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt</span>
  </em>
  <span> you Cole?” And there’s so much pain and fear and confusion in Hank’s eyes that Cole almost feels bad for </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>, like Cole’s not the one here with so much to fucking lose.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine,” he repeats, stubborn and insistent, “It’s just a bit of blood,” then, awkwardly and hardly believing he’s saying this, “Maybe I’m just a bit constipated?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If Hank accepts that as an answer it’ll be a fucking miracle, but it’s looking increasingly likely that a miracle is what Cole needs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re my </span>
  <em>
    <span>friend</span>
  </em>
  <span> Cole, and if something happened to you I want to know- okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now Cole wants to cry or scream a little because he maybe thinks of Hank as a friend too, and the best thing he could do for their friendship would be to leave this the fuck alone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe that’s why he bites back, a little mean and cruel and desperate- like an animal backed into a corner and lashing out at a perceived threat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why do you care so much about my shorts anyway Hank? You some kind of fruit?” He regrets the words once they’re out of his mouth, because they’re needlessly cruel and he hates that kind of language anyway, thinks of what his parents always said to him. Thinks of the words Marie’s parents used to refer to women like her, would use for people like him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike>
    <span>Thinks of a kiss in a shower</span>
    <span>.</span>
  </strike>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hank to his credit, but unfortunately for Cole’s increasing desperation doesn’t step away from the door, but does fold his arms a little.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know Cole, you tell me- am I?. Because most of the reasons I can think for a man’s shorts ending up in that state are a little fruity. Maybe I should stop standing here and trying to help you, and just go and tell a fucking</span>
  <em>
    <span> doctor</span>
  </em>
  <span> that my bunkmate here is bleeding out of his ass!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And now finally Hank is taking a step away from the door and Cole feels terror seize him up. He doesn’t want to tell Hank, doesn’t want Hank to know, but he’s certain that getting anyone else involved would be infinitely worse.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t.” He says, a little- a </span>
  <em>
    <span>lot</span>
  </em>
  <span>- desperately, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Please</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I- okay. I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said that okay- god knows there’s worse things out there. Just don’t-” He sighs and collapses onto his bed feeling uncomfortably close to tears.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s not-” he takes a deep breath and tries to pull himself together, “It’s not what you think. I’m not-.” Cole breaks off, tries to arrange his thoughts into some semblance of order and restarts.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Remember when I told you I maybe wasn’t quite… </span>
  <em>
    <span>normal</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Cole asks, because it’s a good of a place to start as any.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hank nods slowly, “In OCS right, yeah I remember. Still don’t think any justification of “different” explains bleeding from below as </span>
  <em>
    <span>healthy</span>
  </em>
  <span> Cole.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And this- okay Cole can work with this, he can explain. He ignores the terror he feels, tries to push back words from his father about hanging by a rope. He tries to forget the fact that this is the first person he’s ever had to expose himself to in this way.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’ll be fine, he’ll live. Hopefully, there’s got to be something Hank wants, some way this all turns out okay.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s not coming from my ass Hank,” and he thinks he might die from embarrassment if he doesn’t have a heart attack from fright first.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A puzzled look takes over Hank’s face as he doubtfully asks, “Are you saying you’re bleeding from your-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No!” Cole says hurriedly, cutting him off, “No, Uh. I uh I- I might possibly not have all the expected parts of a typical man. It’s a thing this, happens about once a month, your mother might be familiar with it.” He tries to inject some false joviality into that end statement he doesn’t feel. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All he can think is that his mother tried to warn them, and then he’s struck with fear, worrying what’s going to happen to Marie and the girls.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His breath is coming in short gasps, and he’s trying to keep it even because he </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> show any fear and why isn’t Hank saying anything? What does he even want Hank to say?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please don’t tell anyone,” he breathes out, “I’ll do anything you want.” he adds on as a concession.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuuuck Cole,” Hank says at last, shaking his head, “And no one else knows? Jesus Christ. The fuck are you doing in the Marines- don’t answer that. No wonder you don’t seem to worry about keeping yourself alive, guy like you joining up- I’m assuming you weren’t drafted.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, I wasn’t drafted,” He says carefully, unsure where this is heading. He’s still alive though, Hank hasn’t moved to hit him </span>
  <strike>
    <span>or fuck him</span>
  </strike>
  <span> it could be worse.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why do I always fall for the fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>idiots</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Hank mutters, seemingly to himself and Cole decides not to pick up on it. He doesn’t think he was meant to hear anyway. Louder Hank continues,</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So you’re not hurt?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cole shakes his head, keeping his eyes trained on the other man.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well try and stay that way, christ sake Cole. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Then Hank’s moved and he’s being wrapped up in a hug and he can’t move and he’s freaking out and-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Secret for a secret Phelps. You were right about me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hank steps back, “So what are we gonna do about these sheets then Cole?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well-”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>He and Hank are in different regiments once they arrive and it doesn’t seem like they’re going to see much of each other for quite a while at least.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His platoon hates him, it’s easy to tell. He’s too educated perhaps, too sympathetic towards the Japanese for their liking. He’s too distant and aloof, </span>
  <em>
    <span>thinks he’s above us</span>
  </em>
  <span> he can imagine them saying. It’s no hardship for him though.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Distance is good, distance is safe. No one’s going to pick up on the little things about him if they hate his guts.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He knows what they say about him, calling him a “shadow of death,” and it’s kind of ironic. They complain about him suddenly dropping into conversations without warning and yet they still gossip about him when he’s around.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If he gave more of a shit then he’d call them out on it- but he likes the distance that his reputation brings.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He knows they only salute him so often in the hopes that he’ll get sniped, but despite himself he likes it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Likes the respect, likes the honour- likes all these things you can only get if you’re a </span>
  <em>
    <span>man</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>He does recon work, he feels like he’s helping- just a little bit.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>They say it’s a small world and it never feels more obvious than when he winds up face to face with Jack Kelso once more. Time it seems, does not change things. They still rub each other up the wrong way, and Hank’s still there trying to play mediator- man’s probably desperate to leave Cole behind.  Now that he knows he’s a freak and all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not that Hank’s ever said as much.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But it makes sense to Cole that Hank would rather be friends with Kelso- man may bring Cole out in bristles, but at least he’s normal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And his men all seem to love him- not like with Cole.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“So how’s your </span>
  <em>
    <span>war</span>
  </em>
  <span> Cole?” Hank asks him when they’re reunited at last, and he’s thrown back to days at OCS of Hank trying to convince him to give up on the glory and survive. It’s not what he expected, it’s brutal and it’s bloody and it’s harsh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He still believes it’s the right thing to do though.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cole would maybe say something, but they’re surrounded the screaming of a dying man and no one’s brave or stupid enough to risk going out over the top.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Except apparently there is.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A medic- Sheldon is crawling out and Cole’s not sure whether to be in awe or to decry the stupidity of such an action. If Sheldon can bring the man back he’ll be a hero, but otherwise he’ll just be dead- but nobly dead. Still a waste though.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wonders if this is what Hank’s talking about when he tries to tell Cole to focus on survival.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He also wonders if Hank’s a little sweet on him- if that’s why he’s kept Cole’s secrets with nothing asked and even shared some of his own. Standing next to Hank, his one beacon of friendship in all this misery and wonders if it would be so bad if he was.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Somehow Sheldon comes back alive- but </span>
  <em>
    <span>alone</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Too bad, Cole tells him, too bad about the guy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But that had been Sheldon’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>intention</span>
  </em>
  <span>- to give the guy morphine, to kill him- to put him out of his pain.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cole can’t wrap his head around it. He looks at Courtney and he sees Jack (both of them, Kelso and Phelps) and he doesn’t like it. But that’s alright, because Cole doesn’t need to like anyone, or for anyone to like him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This is just the start of a long simmering resentment between Courtney and Cole which will culminate with a shot to the back. Neither know this now.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>There are bullets flying everywhere, and Cole’s not a rifle company- nor is Hank.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The whole company is dead- other than him and Hank, and all Cole can think is that they should turn back- it seems the safest and most reasonable option. What’s the point in staying when it’s all going so shit?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sees Hank, and he tries to tell him this, because it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hank</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and Cole Phelps might need no one, but surely it’s only right for him to let the one surviving member of his company know- even if he’s been running around looking for him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hank doesn’t want to leave though, not when people are still firing- Kelso amongst them </span>
  <strike>
    <span>Fuck Kelso</span>
  </strike>
  <span>. Says they can’t leave anyone behind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The 22nd are still firin-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>BOOM</b>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A loud explosion fills his ears cutting off whatever Hank was going to say and warm liquid splashes his face and in his eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>See, </span>
  <em>
    <span>See</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thinks desperately as he tries to blink it out, we’ve got to get off this hill now Hank, before it happens again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Some poor fucker’s just gone and exploded all over us, but we’re still alive so we have to </span>
  <em>
    <span>go</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He thinks a scream filled his ears at the same time as the explosion, but there was no real chance.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hank still hasn’t said anything.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hank still hasn’t said anything</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He opens his eyes, free of blood at last, and sees an arm, and some of a burnt torso next to him. There’s no Hank.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Desperately he wonders where Hank got off to, and he turns around trying to see. There is no standing figures for all the distance he can see.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>No.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No no no no  no no n o no nononononononononono.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He can’t breathe  and he can still feel warm blood dribbling down his face and soaking into his shirt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe he’s crying maybe he’s laughing, tears and snot mixing with the blood.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were always telling </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be careful about staying alive and to forget glory,” Cole tells the largest remains of Hank, “How the tables have turned.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s Hank’s blood on his hands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s not really sure how long he stays there- although he knows it’s a while. The sky brightens eventually,  and he hears the march of footsteps towards him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If this is how he dies then he doesn’t really give a fuck. Not anymore.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He would tell this to Hank, but he doesn’t think Hank’s really going to care anymore.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>It turns out to be Kelso and his platoon, not some Japanese soldier who finds him lying in his fox hole. Cole flickers his eyes disinterestedly over Kelso’s face but doesn’t make any effort to move.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What’s the point, there is none.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“One of the lucky ones,” Kelso says, and Cole could laugh- because he </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span>, isn’t he? He’s alive, Hank’s dead, the company’s dead, he’s covered in Hank’s blood and guts- but he’s alive. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Whoop de fucking doo.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Say goodby to your friend </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hank</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Jack,” Cole tells him, gesturing to the mangled and charred remains. They were </span>
  <em>
    <span>friends</span>
  </em>
  <span> after all, he’s sure Jack would want to pay respect to Hank, because Jack cared about </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span> Marines and they’d be safe as long as he liked them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hank’s still fucking dead though.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Cole sees Jack swallow and a feeling of regret, of sympathy almost breaks through his numb haze for a moment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kelso’s not the one who had to blink </span>
  <strike>
    <span>his best friend’s </span>
  </strike>
  <span>Hank’s blood out of his eyes though.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He was your friend too Cole,” Jack tells him seriously, and no. Nah, nada. Cole wants to say- because he didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>have </span>
  </em>
  <span>friends, Cole Phelps didn’t need anybody, and he’s fine.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s not upset at all about this, because there’s no reason to be upset, just another Marine, just another Marine- party of his company </span>
  <em>
    <span>sure</span>
  </em>
  <span>- but there’s no reason why Cole Phelps should be upset about the death of Hank Merril </span>
  <em>
    <span>specifically</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe if he keeps telling himself that it will become true.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is this how you’re going to leave him?” Kelso asks, and Cole can hear the disgust in his voice. He just flops his head back in an overdramatic nod.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sure, why not? Cole’s got enough of Hank to bring back already, he’s practically dripping the guy. He can sense Kelso’s increasing exasperation, but he can’t really bring himself to give a crap until the other man asks him something which breaks him out of his shock.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> “Are you wounded?!” Kelso shouts at him, and no. No.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not a scratch Kelso,” he tells the other man sitting up and shaking his head. He keeps his voice light, and hopes that Kelso is willing to just take his word. Cole’s not lying- he’s not injured. But even if he was he wouldn’t report it unless he was going to literally fucking die, and then he’d still consider trying to deal with it himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s not letting some fucking army doctor see him naked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He can tell that Kelso’s quickly lost all sympathy for him- or maybe this is just how Kelso processes his grief, but soon enough he’s shouting again- voice full of unmasked anger.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then get up and get </span>
  <em>
    <span>out</span>
  </em>
  <span> of that fucking hole! Find a stretcher while you’re at it so we can get him out of here!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fine, he thinks and pulls himself out. But he’s not getting a stretcher, he’s not bringing back and mangled arm and torso, those images are already burned into his retinas.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Then there’s superior officers coming up and he goes through the motions in a trance, Kelso prompting him half the way.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They think he’s a fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>hero</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Like shit. Hank’s more of a hero, hell Kelso’s probably more of a hero.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s a first Lieutenant now. Go him.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>After Hank’s death Cole throws himself into doing everything as thoroughly and correctly as he possibly can. No chance for mistakes, no chance for screw ups. If he’s asked to check every house he will check every fucking house and even go back to do it again if he fucking has to.</span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>Fuck Kelso and his </span><em><span>you’re</span></em> <em><span>falling behind</span></em><span>- Cole’s going to do this properly and by the book. Going to do it right for Hank whose final impression of Cole had probably been one of a shirker.</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His letters to his family, to Marie, already pretty sparse become increasingly more clipped and factual.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t want to worry his parents, and he doesn’t know how to explain Hank to Marie. He wants to write to Jack.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately getting a letter to a fellow soldier is rather difficult, on account of them both constantly moving around. Jack’s a medic- but he’s still a soldier, so he’s fighting not tucked away in a hospital.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It doesn’t help that </span>
  <em>
    <span>technically</span>
  </em>
  <span> speaking as far as the army is concerned Jack and Cole Phelps are </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>brothers, they just have a coincidental last name and it’s just a general pain in the ass.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Point being most of the contact between the two brothers is via their parents and so Cole hems and haws about actually writing this letter he wants to write just in case Richard or Hannah Phelps decide to give it a peep and get all worried.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Or maybe Cole’s just not sure what to say and is putting it off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s been sent two more pairs of balled up socks (they always arrive balled up) since he first left. They’re nominally from his parents, but he knows Jack asked them to send them to him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s heard Kelso’s platoon muttering about how its just more proof that he’s a fucking nutter getting so happy over a pair of socks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Whatever.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>So when they find him sitting mostly catatonic with a letter in his lap and a pair of balled up socks in his hands they don’t seem to think much of it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cole’s distantly aware that they’re saying something, but there’s no way they’re shipping out yet- and they don’t have the bark of the upper command so he doesn’t try to wrench his focus out from the words staring back up at him.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The letter had arrived 12 days after the funeral.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cole had spent the past 12 days not grieving his brother- and it didn’t fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>matter</span>
  </em>
  <span> that he hadn’t known, because he </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span> have fucking known.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jack had probably pulled a fucking Sheldon, going over the lines when everyone else thought it was suicide, but this time his luck had fallen out. Or maybe he was exploded in a fox hole while his friend told him to go back. Or maybe, or maybe so many possibilities.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I want to have two sons when I’m old.” His father had said. Well just look at how that had turned out. Jack’s dead, and Cole’s not going to be able to set foot in Larkspur ever again anyway.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cole holds himself stock still in the hope that maybe if </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> stops moving then maybe time will just freeze around him as well.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jack is dead, Hank is dead, and Cole has a promotion he doesn’t fucking deserve. He hopes beyond hope that his brother never heard of his raise in rank before he died, he hopes that Jack didn’t get to hear some false version of Cole. Can imagine his brother whistling in false pride and feels himself crack a little more inside.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The watchers must have left at some point- </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span>- but Cole only realises this because soon enough even more footsteps return.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The fuck are you doing Phelps?” a familiar voice asks him but it still takes him a moment to place it as Kelso. Kelso, Kelso’s got to really hate him now, being summoned from wherever by his men to deal with Cole’s pathetic ass.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cole might feel bad, or embarrassed- but Jack’s dead. Been dead for 3 weeks, and Cole didn’t even </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He flicks the letter to Kelso’s feet, beyond caring and doesn’t from his head from where he’s still staring desperately at the socks clutched in one hand.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dear Cole,” Kelso reads, “Your father and I are writing to tell you that Jack has been reported KI- fuck Cole.” Kelso breaks off, sounding almost sympathetic, “alright, clear off the lot of you!” He calls out, sounding firm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s a shuffling sound which Cole supposes is the sound of many gawkers moving off, but he can’t really bring himself to care.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Men don’t cry, he reminds himself, and stares at the socks that little bit more intensely.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jack your cousin?” Kelso asks him, “a friend?” he continues when Cole still doesn’t respond, “uncle-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Brother,” Cole says, lets the word escape his mouth but still refuses to lift his head to meet Kelso’s eyes. He keeps staring at the socks, at those little bits of Jack and tries to will them into a full person.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t you get a telegram?” Kelso asks him, and hah. Wouldn’t that have been nice. He lets his silence speak for itself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry Cole,” Kelso tells hims after a pause, “I’ll make sure the guys give you some space tonight.” There’s a small rustle and Kelso’s putting the letter back on his lap before he walks out.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Cole’s not sure how much longer he keeps sitting there, clutching the socks- but it’s no more than an hour. Eventually he pulls himself together and walks off to go eat. It’s fine, he can deal with this.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Besides, the funeral’s happened, so that means the grief is over. Jack is- was- over in the European Theatre, and Cole’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>here</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Different places, it’s all fine, he’s fine. It’s fine.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>If Hank’s death had changed him, made him even more aloof, even more methodical- gotten him even </span>
  <em>
    <span>more </span>
  </em>
  <span>talk then Jack’s just shoos that along that little bit further.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’d never really gotten along with Sheldon- definitely they had gotten off on the wrong foot. But it’s worse now- now that he looks at him and thinks of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Jack</span>
  </em>
  <span> but Jack is dead and why is </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> dead but Cole still has to stare at fucking Courtney Sheldon every day.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Especially when Sheldon risks life and limb to save some poor soldier- or put him out of his misery- but still comes back alive.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shouldn’t hate him for it, but he does. And Cole hates himself for that.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kelso thinks he’s taking too long to clear out the houses in the town, but Cole’s going to make sure that he doesn’t let anyone slip out of his clutches.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So maybe he’s falling behind- but at least he’s doing his job </span>
  <em>
    <span>well</span>
  </em>
  <span>- and he will cling to that thought with everything he has.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At least until The Caves that is. (And yes, they are capitalised in his minds, for those rare occasions when he actually think thinks about them.)</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>He knows his men think he’s being overly fussy, falling behind, he knows Kelso thinks he’s being a coward. But Cole is going to check every last cave god damn it, and he is going to clear them </span>
  <em>
    <span>properly</span>
  </em>
  <span> not just sealing them up like Kelso does.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What if there are </span>
  <em>
    <span>civilians</span>
  </em>
  <span> in there- and even if they’re not, trapping people in a cave to slowly starve is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> what Cole signed up for.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike>
    <span>It’s not what any of them signed up for- but it’s war.</span>
  </strike>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So he’s checking them, and bringing out the flamethrowers and trying to ignore the needling and the incessant demands to hurry the fuck up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hoogeboome wants to know why he won’t just bring in tanks or even just blow up the caves- but Cole’s going to do this by the numbers goddammit, going to do this as right as he </span>
  <em>
    <span>can</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But then they’re being fired on and Lisbon’s down, and next thing he knows the big cowboy with the flamethrower is charging ahead into the caves without so much as a by your leave.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who gave that order?” Cole demands, because they were meant to go in </span>
  <em>
    <span>together</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You did,” Perkins shouts back at him, clearly pissed off. And, Cole hadn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>meant</span>
  </em>
  <span>- he just.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nobody was meant to go off alone, </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He assembles his men and they run off into the cave to try and see what the situation is.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The smell of roasting meat fills Cole’s lungs, and it’s nothing particularly out of the ordinary- though he’s loathe to say it- he’s used to it by now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s not used to the incessant screaming, the screaming of women, and children, and fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>babies</span>
  </em>
  <span> crying.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He thinks he might be sick, distantly he’s aware of other people being sick around him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s too much, he can’t deal.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stop the goddamn screaming!” He calls out, and feels his voice break as he desperately tries to hold it together, “I need to think.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And how do you expect to do that you fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>maniac</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Courtney spits out, “They’re burned to a crisp!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Courtney’s having  none of his shit, and it’s not fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>helping</span>
  </em>
  <span> because it’s Courtney but he’s right- but he doesn’t want him to be right oh fuck oh fuck.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>What has Cole </span>
  <em>
    <span>done</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s not sure what to do, because what he wants to do is go back and stop fucking Hoogeboome entering this godforsaken cave.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t have time, and he’s already running behind, and he’s surrounded by the smell of burning flesh- the screams of dying kids.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s only one thing that comes to mind, they can’t get them all out or help them- there’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>time</span>
  </em>
  <span>. No. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The kindest thing to do is to put them out of their misery, to give them a quick and clean death- not this excruciating torture.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They’re going to die anyway </span>
  <strike>
    <span>oh god</span>
  </strike>
  <span> he just wants to make this fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>clean</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Finish them off,” he says heavily, eyes squeezed shut- he can’t stand to look at any of them as he does so, “Do it </span>
  <em>
    <span>humanely</span>
  </em>
  <span>. We’re leaving this place.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then he’s walking to leave because he can’t stand to be in here any longer. He can’t, oh god what has he </span>
  <em>
    <span>done</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do it yourself Phelps,” Courtney spits at him, “get your own fucking hands dirty!” Of course Courtney can’t do it, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Jack</span>
  </em>
  <span> would never let Cole do this shit, helping people to the fucking last, helping people even when there’s no fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>point</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This, </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span>, is the only help he can give these poor poor people now. A swift bullet to the head, a merciful end.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He orders his men to start shooting and turns his back while the bullets fly to try and regain some of his composure.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A burning pain suddenly hits his back, just below his shoulder and he crumples forwards.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He turns to see Courtney staring dead at him, face set and jaw firm. Cole can’t really blame him, but what hurts even more than the bullet is looking into the medic’s eyes and seeing all that hate and condemnation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just for a second it’s not coming out of Courtney Sheldon, it’s coming out of Jack Phelps.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Just his luck that’s when fucking Kelso walks in. Cole can see him sweep the room and pick up on everything that’s happened. Cole might not particularly </span>
  <em>
    <span>like</span>
  </em>
  <span> Kelso, but he can’t deny the man is very quick. Observant mind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then Kelso’s talking and Cole’s not really focusing on too much of it, more preoccupied by the burning in his back and the feeling of blood soaking into his shirt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He makes out Kelso swearing them all to secrecy- not like Cole was going to rat out Sheldon anyway. He also makes out "get him to an aid station" and that’s when the real panic starts to set in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Because if this bullet doesn’t kill him- which it probably won’t- chances are the medical scrutiny will.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s just his back he tells himself, he’ll be fine.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t need the aid station,” he tries to tell the two of them, “I can just pull it out, I’ll be fine,” he babbles desperately, “No need for a doctor.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re not the fucking batman Cole,” Kelso tells him irritably, “You have a fucking bullet in you for god’s sake.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please, I don’t need a fucking doctor,” He tries desperately appealing to Sheldon instead, hopefully Courtney hates his guts just enough to leave him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes you do. Christ, never known a grown man to be so fucking scared of the doctors, grow up Phelps.” Courtney grunts from where he’s supporting Cole.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Of course Sheldon won’t let him fucking alone, man’s a corpsman. Just Cole’s fucking luck.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The pain of the bullet is almost enough to distract him from what just happened- what </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> did- in those caves. He welcomes it.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s patched up as good as they can do at the aid station, but the bullet’s still in him and they tell him he’s going to have to be taken to a proper field hospital.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They are rather more </span>
  <em>
    <span>thorough</span>
  </em>
  <span> at the hospital, and all of Cole’s fears are coming true.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Like </span>
  <em>
    <span>now</span>
  </em>
  <span>, when he’s woken up just about, though things are still basked in haze and there’s a face complete with hungry eyes staring back at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s not the face of a doctor, surgeon, or even a nurse- at least not going off the uniforms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Corpsman, or a porter- something like that. That’s what Cole would stake this man is.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“You come to follow your sweetheart?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The question startles Cole, even in this faint haze and the panic sets in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s no longer in his filthy uniform, someone’s changed him. Judging by the look on this man’s face he can guess who.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cole doesn’t say anything, doesn’t trust his voice. Panic is seizing him, and while this is bad, so bad- all his father’s warnings coming true- he thinks maybe, just </span>
  <em>
    <span>maybe</span>
  </em>
  <span> if he can convince this man he’s just a </span>
  <em>
    <span>woman</span>
  </em>
  <span> a foolish and haplessly in love </span>
  <em>
    <span>woman</span>
  </em>
  <span> it could be alright.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s not safe, not judging by the look on the man’s face, or even really the general safety of being a woman.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s still safer than being a </span>
  <em>
    <span>freak</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s been off the pills for a while now, and some things have gone back to the way they were </span>
  <em>
    <span>before-</span>
  </em>
  <span> kind of. Usually it’s just another thing he forcibly puts out of his mind lest he lose it, but now this could save him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He still has the voice and chest of a man- but he could just be small, and his entire torso is wrapped in bandages anyway. His face has softened up again, he hasn’t had any beard growth, and his junk’s the same as always.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If he keeps schtum maybe he can play this off. Quietly discharged from the army, maybe he’ll have to get a new life, but maybe this could work.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe this man could even be sympathetic and no one would have to know.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fat chance.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s want and something else in the- corpsman’s? eyes, but no sympathy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He nods slowly. The soldier moves slowly towards him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So I’m seeing you’ve done all of this for your man, you must really love him. I can respect that, be a shame if all your effort went to waste…” he trails off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cole just keeps watching him warily, because there’s a game here, there’s something being </span>
  <em>
    <span>played</span>
  </em>
  <span>- but Cole can’t for the life of him work out what it </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But see, I’m a gentleman, and it just feels </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong</span>
  </em>
  <span> to leave a woman in the army you know, not the right place for you… You understand?” A hand drops onto his shoulder, and while tenses Cole doesn’t move to shake it off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then again, I wouldn’t want you to have wasted all your effort, so maybe we could come to an agreement? You do a little something for me, I do a little something for you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Another hand lands on his stomach and lightly drifts downwards, “you understand my drift? A man gets real lonely out here- but that’s why you followed your man right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cole swallows. He knows this is a - he knows things </span>
  <em>
    <span>like</span>
  </em>
  <span> this happen- but  not to </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>. His father had told him, and his mother had warned him- but he’d never really listened, never really wanted to and-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So do we have a deal? Or am I going to have to go off and reveal what I’ve just found out?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cole thinks about Marie, thinks about his daughters who he barely knows but loves so deeply, thinks about his life and all the fallout this could bring on them all.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He lies down from where he’s propped himself up and says, “okay, we have a deal.”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>It happens again, and then a few more times- and once with a </span>
  <em>
    <span>friend</span>
  </em>
  <span>- and then Cole’s being shipped home, honourably discharged and mostly recovered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The war’s essentially over and Cole’s made it out with his life and- as far as everyone else is concerned- his honour intact.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No one needs to know about The </span>
  <em>
    <span>Caves</span>
  </em>
  <span> and what he did other than his unit. Nobody needs to know about the hospital other than him and- anyway.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Coles’ not a broad- not </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span>- and this stuff only happens to broads which means that it didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>happen to him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s a twinge in his shoulder but he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Courtney Sheldon assumes Cole Phelps hates him because he shot him. Not really, Cole could forgive that. This is why he hates him.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The first night back in San Francisco when he’s finally reunited with Marie and the girls there are tears all round. Even though it’s late Marie rouses the girls and he hugs them so tightly he thinks he might never let go before kissing Marie.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once the girls are back in bed he and Marie keep hugging and he tells her how much he loves her and almost lets himself soften and relax in her embrace.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t fall apart the first night, or the second, doesn’t let himself go under the joy of being home.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cole’s always been good at compartmentalising- it’s how he’d dealt with his entire childhood.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>He hates being in San Francisco, everywhere he goes he sees bits and pieces of Jack and he’s bitterly reminded that he’ll never get to see or touch or talk to his brother ever again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Never get to talk to him about Hank, because god knows he wouldn’t know where to begin with Marie.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s not just the memories of Jack either. It’s when June falls over in the yard and starts screaming because she’s scraped her knee and for a moment Cole is taken back to the cave.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s when he sees his family- Marie June and Holly- sitting together and he thinks of them burning alive in some godforsaken cave in Japan.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s that everyone sees him and they see a war </span>
  <em>
    <span>hero</span>
  </em>
  <span> instead of a corrupted failure.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He thinks he still loves Marie, but he doesn’t know how to talk to her anymore. She doesn’t know how to talk to him- they’d been apart for about a third of the time they’d even been </span>
  <em>
    <span>together</span>
  </em>
  <span> and he feels himself pushing away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sometimes he catches Marie staring at his scars, and he doesn’t think it’s the one on his back that bothers her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She deserves better than a fucking failure and a mess like </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>- she has no idea what he’s done. But they’re married, and he still loves her, and loves the girls and he selfishly doesn’t want to let her go.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Marie had fallen out of love with his body just as Cole had finally started to appreciate it, but now after the war. After everything he’s done Cole can’t help but wonder if Marie is starting to fall out of love with</span>
  <em>
    <span> him</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Look at the two of them, two freaks stuck together. Marie had lost her family for him, and he wonders if that’s why she doesn’t leave. Selfishly he’s kind of glad.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>But San Francisco is suffocating him, so a few months after Cole’s shipped home they move to L.A.. There’s too many memories of Jack in San Francisco, and Cole needs to get out. There’s too many memories of who he’d been </span>
  <em>
    <span>before</span>
  </em>
  <span> all of this, and he can’t stomach the idea that his parents are only hours away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s worried they’ll take one look at him and see it all, he’s worried they’ll never notice any of it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Marie is more than eager to leave too- especially after they hear through the grapevine of Cole’s parents that Marie’s little brother is planning to move to the city to study.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They know </span>
  <em>
    <span>nobody</span>
  </em>
  <span> in L.A., but nobody knows them, and it’s freeing. If Cole had felt like he’d finally been able to breathe when he’d first run away to the city then being in L.A. is like being finally allowed to scream. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No one who, well, no one who would be likely to cause problems had known about Cole- or Marie, in San Francisco, but no one will ever know </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span> here in L.A.. Cole Phelps arrives in this city, and even the most dedicated of sleuths would only be able to track him back to another man, perhaps a bit more effeminate, in San Francisco.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He joins the police force, because maybe finally he can actually do some </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span>, to try and atone for every fucking thing he’d done.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Everyone tries to reinvent themselves when they run away to L.A., why not Cole?</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hoped you enjoyed that 9k of trying to mesh random headcanons with canon. I have some more planned for the desks, especially traffic which might actually be from Stefan's POV (funky).</p><p>Not sure how far this will go or how canon compliant it might be ngl, not sure how Elsa would fit in this AU</p></blockquote></div></div>
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